The Untold Mission
by DeathJackal
Summary: A mission given to Wolfpack before Operation Raccoon City, the team is newly formed after the death of the last Delta team. Wolfpack is now forced to stay in a mansion to ensure the new team mates improve their team work and get to know each other to ensure future mission success.
1. Chapter 1

Not really sure what to classify this as crack fic, humor, parody; I don't really know so I'll let you decide. I bought RE: ORC and feel in love with Spectre, how can you not love a cannibalistic Russian in a zombie game. I don't own Resident Evil ORC or any of the characters. So basically Wolfpack are brought together for the first time, forced to live together to really get to know each other, Umbrella feels the better they get along, the better their missions will be.

The First Night

Karena "Lupo" LesProux was the first to arrive at the house, or to be correct, mansion. The team leader of Delta team, aka Wolfpack didn't like this, being forced to 'bond' with her new team mates for a set amount of time as an order from the higher ups. If she hadn't needed the large payments that Umbrella paid her for her missions to support her children she would have quite when they told her she was going to be thrown into a mansion provided by Umbrella to 'get to know' her new team mates. It did have its points, if you know someone you can work more comfortably with them and more efficiently but like this, it was just unusual.

Lupo walks into the Foyer, a beautifully decorated with oak tables, vases with flowers, rugs, doors leading to other sections of the house and of course a large stair cares leading up to the second floor. The leader sighs and rubs the back of her head, touching the silky brown hair done up in a bun, this was so frustrating but no use crying over it especially when she gets paid for this. Lupo walks up the stairs and moves down a hallway and opens another door walking into a large bed room with dark red sheets, comforter, and a canopy.

The room itself was rather beautiful a fire place, the large bed, a table, red couch, dresser, bathroom, everything a woman could need for staying in hell for how knows how long. The woman sighs and pulls off her blue glowing mask and throws it on the bed along with her bag, opening the bag and pulling out a file before walking back downstairs and heading to the living room to take a seat on a large leather couch and throwing her feet up on the coffee table.

The woman looks up at the fire place in front of the coffee table and rubs her eyes a bit; this was going to be a very long, very awkward night. As the leader goes to open the file folder a noise puts her on full alert, the sound of footsteps in the room but no one there to cause the sounds. Lupo pulls a pistol out and points it at the area the sound comes from and cocks the gun, ready to shoot.

A blue shimmer appears, followed by a man in black leather and a gas mask with glowing blue eye covers, "You must be our new leader, Lupo. I am Vector, recon." Lupo lowers the gun and puts it back in her belt going back to the file until heavy footsteps fill the room. Vector walks over to a large leather chair and sits down, eyeing the new man that walked in. Lupo eyes the man as well, she couldn't decide what was more intimidating, the man's size, his mask, or the metal left leg.

The man walks over towards the other two, his armor clicking loudly from all the explosives attached to his belt, his boot heavy with each step, seeming to have no difficulty moving despite his metal leg, "Hector 'Beltway' Hivers, demolitions." The man walks over and sits down heavily on the couch next to Lupo.

Lupo sighs, "Lupo, squad commander." Lupo goes to open the file and twitches as her hand lies on the file only to be interrupted by another set of footsteps. Lupo looks up to see an Asian woman with a very interesting mask, two blue glowing 'eye' like parts on the lower part of the mask.

The woman walks up to Lupo and sits next to her, "Christine 'Four Eyes' Yamata, field scientist." The woman looks over the two men and Lupo, "You the team leader?"

Lupo twitches and nods, looking up at the doorway to see if any other person would walk in, waiting for a few minutes before turning back to her file and going to open it, again hearing more footsteps. Lupo closes her eyes and opens them to see a rather intimidating woman in black leather and covered leather gas mask. The woman would be rather well built with blond hair behind her mask and she seems a bit scary.

The woman walks over slowly, almost stalking towards a chair and sits down, all eyes on her, "I am Michaela 'Bertha' Schneider, medic." The woman would have a heavy German accent.

Beltway's glaring mask tilts to the side, "Oh shit, our medic is a dominatrix."

Lupo shakes her head and opens the folder and reads over the thick papers inside as the others side around, seeming to size each other up for the first time. Vector was the first to break the group sizing "Is this all of us?"

Four Eyes looks around, "Isn't there supposed to be three men and three women?"

Beltway puts his feet up on the same table as Lupo, "So we have a slacker, big fucking deal, he'll be dead from the first mission."

Lupo looks up at Beltway, "Not a slacker, according to this file he's getting brought here by Umbrella. The guy is a new transfer from the Umbrella European sector." Lupo would have a French accent as she talks.

Bertha pulls out a pair of forceps from her leather jacket and inspects them, "What use will he be to us?"

Lupo flips a page over, "According to this he is a veteran of the Cold War, an ex Soviet spy. The guy is a Surveillance expert and specializes in long range weapons. Vladimir "Spectre" Bodrovski, Russian, he was transferred from the European branch for unstated reasons but it was under Umbrella's orders."

Beltway waves a hand dismissively, "Just a communist Russian bastard."

Vector leans over and crosses his fingers and puts his elbows on his knees, "Can he speak English?"

Lupo flips through the files, "I can…speak it." Lupo and the other members of the new team Delta look up at the door way to see a man in black cloth and leather, an interesting leather mask on his face, showing goggles and an extended lower mask.

Bertha puts her forceps away and looks up at Spectre, "Spectre I take it?"

The new man nods a bit and moves over to the last chair and sits down, his black combat boots rather quite against the floor. Lupo and the rest of the team take time to size this man up. Spectre was shorter then Vector and Beltway and he seemed lean compared to them, obviously not a heavy combat person.

Lupo puts the file away, "I am Lupo, team commander. Bertha is our medic, Vector is our recon, Four Eyes is our scientist, and Beltway is our demolitions expert. Since we're all here now it's to finish this 'bonding' so we can get onto our first mission, Umbrella wants us to get to know each other, to improve our teamwork."

Four Eyes rubs on a syringe in her hands, "I'd rather be working on my virus samples."

Beltway pulls off a grenade and plays with it in his hands, "I'd rather blow this place up, this is a fucking stupid assignment."

Lupo rubs her temples, "Enough, we have orders to do this so do it and lets be over with it." Lupo looks over at Vector who crosses his arms, then looks over at Spectre who just watches through those odd goggles but remains silent.

Beltway looks over at Spectre, "What's wrong, you too damn good to talk to us?"

Spectre moves his head to look at the larger man, "I have….nothing to say." Spectre's voice heavy with his Russian accent.

Four Eyes watches the Russian, "Why do you keep pausing like that when you talk?"

Spectre gets up and walks towards the doorway, "English…isn't my first language"

Bertha gets up as well, "It's natural to speak a new language slower, makes sure you don't say something unintentional."

Spectre leaves the room and heads upstairs to the room he would choose to stay in. This would be such a horribly long 'mission'.


	2. Chapter 2

First Unfortunate Morning

AUTHORS NOTE: sorry its been so long, school and such have gotten in the way. In this chapters I detail out how I would foresee Spectre's appearance since he's always hidden behind a mask and his awesome gear.

Dawn broke over the horizon, sunlight creeping up the side of the mansion to invade Spectre's room, prompting the Russian to roll over and cover his head with his silky covers. Spectre had found he was rather comfortable, though he wouldn't openly admit it. The bed's soft mattress and silky, cool sheets provided a comfort that was usually denied in Soviet Russia, especially for a spy.

The Russian murmured something in his native tongue as a few birds began to chirp rather noisily, causing Spectre to lift his head up. The surveillance expert would have a unique look to him, the soviet winters taking a toll on his skin, leaving him with a pale complexion that showed his lean, but well built body. Spectre's eyes would be a rather dim color to someone who just glanced at him, but in truth his eyes would be a steel, blue grey color, hard, cold, and calculating. The most awkward part of his appearance, and the thing he'd come to hide well in his time as a spy, his hair would be a dull white color, something he could hide easily with temporary dye, to give him an average look. The white color of his hair far from natural, a result of stress from his ex job and some of the…less pleasant things he's had to do in his life to survive.

Spectre rolls back over as the bird chirping gets louder as the sun rises further into the sky. Before Spectre could get up to get dressed, a loud shot rings and echoes across the mansion grounds, a shot gun from the sounds of it.

"Hey I'm trying to sleep you fuckers, go chirp at someone else."

Beltway would all but yell at the birds that either lay on the ground or have flown off. Beltway grunts and turns back into his room from the balcony, scratching his ass with one hand through his red and black boxers, his other hand gripping the handle of a large pump-action shot gun.

"Stupid lil shits wakin' me up in the morning…"

Spectre sighs from his own room as the chirping seems to quite altogether now. After a few moments of just laying there the Russian gets up and gets dressed in a majority of his gear, sans his mask and armor from waist up, just leaving his chest covered in a black wife beater and black gloves, along with his combat boots and cargo pants. There really was no use in covering all up in full combat ready gear when you are stuck in a mansion. Spectre reaches over and picks up his semi-auto rifle and reattaches the scope, not having much need for it when wearing his goggles.

Spectre shoulders his rifle once the scope is reattached and heads to the mansion's shooting range, one of the few actual pleasures in this place, if they couldn't shoot people or B.O.W's then at least they could shoot something, even if it is just targets. Spectre makes his way down into the 'basement' level of the mansion, heading down a long corridor of steel and hanging lights, electric doors lined the walls and a red carpet covering the floor. The sniper sets his gun down by a computer and logs in, with a few clicks of the keyboard the lights dim and small targets begin to move quickly from side to side, not much of a target but better than nothing.

The Russian picks up his rifle again and positions it, taking aim, and pulling the trigger, puncturing the target, the first shot would follow with several more in a row, blowing the target with large holes with each hit. The slow and boring target practice would be interrupted by the sounds of soft footsteps, prompting the Russian to stop his practice and turn around.

Bertha would be standing behind him in her full gear, mask and all, her arms crossed over his large bust.

"You are needed upstairs, Lupo is calling a meeting." Bertha would say with her heavy German accent.

Spectre pulls the rifle up and removes the clip, pumping the bullet from the chamber, god forbid he 'accidently' shoot one his new team mates. The Russian follows his companion back upstairs into the living room that they had all met up in last night. Beltway wearing baggy jeans but otherwise naked, his short, spiky brown hair pointing up in all directions from doing god knows what last night. Lupo nods to the two as they walk in and take their seats. Lupo would be in full gear sans her mask, Vector fully geared, and Four Eyes geared expect her mask, the two odd balls seeming to be Spectre and Beltway.

The group seems to take to staring at Spectre's odd hair color before Lupo speaks up, her French accent straining a bit from exhaustion.

"This has been good start, nobody has killed anyone yet." All eyes move towards Spectre's rifle before moving back to Lupo, "Aside from Beltway killing birds this morning, on that side note…don't do that again, you wake up the whole mansion."

Beltway crosses his arms over his tanned, muscular chest with a huff, "Just shutting off nature's alarm, Lupo."

Lupo twitches, "At any rate, I want you all too at least attempt to bound or talk, or something that involved you all walking away from the mansion alive. I want to get out of this mansion and get back to our real work."

The rest of Delta team nod in agreement as Lupo dismisses them, all of them going in opposite directions, making Lupo face palm at the lack of socializing skills these people seemed to have, well it was something to start on..


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: I want to thank my two reviewers Random Zaku Pilot and Trainalf for the reviews. Please keep R&R so if I know ya like the story.

**Very Unfortunate First Dinner**

After the meeting the rest of the day had gone by rather calmly….aside from the occasional curse or shove between team members when they ran into each other in a hallway or room. Spectre had gone back his room and was reading a book in Russian, occasionally getting up to do something mundane such as getting up to take a piss or getting something to drink, seeming rather intent to stay out of the other's way. It wasn't that he didn't want to interact with his team mates, he just wasn't entirely sure how. To most normal people interact with another human is a simple thing, easy as a handshake or wave but to the Russian such things were strange and a bit uncomfortable and the slight language barrier didn't really help.

Spectre sighs and puts the book down on the stand next to his bed and rubs the bridge of his nose. These people where strangers to him in a strange country and he was expected to play buddy with them like he'd known them for years, as if. The Russian had spent the last few minutes actually wondering how they hadn't come to kill each other yet given the culture backgrounds, Russian, German, French, Puerto Rico, Japan, and Japanese-American. Even Spectre would have imagined some form of hatred between the cultures but perhaps it's just what he had come to expect.

Spectre sighs and rolls onto his stomach and lays his head on the silky, soft pillow and closes his eyes, his dark vision invaded by the image of the blonde medic wearing only black leather underwear. The Russian twitches and rolls back over onto his back, sighing. The German medic was interesting, dominating and sadistic, a woman that wouldn't take shit from anybody, it was something new to the Russian.

A knock at his door pulled the Russian from his thoughts, which was fine with him, his thought train had derailed and was heading to gutter town anyway. Spectre gets off his bed and walks over to the door, opening it enough to see who would come knocking, rather surprised to see the blonde that had unwittingly invaded his imagination not but ten seconds ago. The medic would have a hand on her hip as she waits for the door to open a bit more. Spectre gives it a moment before opening the door a bit wider.

"What…do you ...need?" The Russian asks slowly in his deep voice.

Bertha twitches a bit and looks at the Russian for a moment before speaking, "Dinner is ready, if you're hungry." Bertha doesn't even wait for a reply as she turns and heads back down the hall to beat on Beltway's door. Spectre heads down to the dining room to see Lupo and Four Eyes sitting at the long oak table, both women dressed in casual jeans with Lupo wearing a tank top and Four Eyes a purple t-shirt. It was rather odd to see these two dressed so casually compared to the way they had been dressed earlier. Spectre takes a seat next to Lupo who nods to him as she waits patiently for the others to arrive at the table.

The Russian looked at the food set up on the table, guessing it was French food and assumed that it was Lupo who had cooked for them a nice gesture but a strange one for the Russian. The gesture itself a bit negated by the rounded shells of the cooked snails on a plate, the escargot, Spectre couldn't help but secretly wonder where the hell she got the snails or if Umbrella just supplied the mansion with cuisine from their homelands.

Looking down the table, Spectre looks over bowls of Bisque, a plate of basil salmon, and a plate of coq au vin. Lupo would be pouring herself a large glass of red wine and looks up at Spectre holding the bottle out to him. The Russian shakes his head and the French woman puts the bottle down next to her plate.

Four Eyes raises a perfectly curved bow, "I thought Russian's where big drinkers."  
Spectre snorts to himself, "I am…not a fan…of wine." Spectre did actually enjoy a good drink of vodka but wine seemed to be more of a baby drink to him, sweet with a small kick, if he was going to drink, he wanted to feel it on his throat.

Beltway and Bertha walk into the room and take seats at the table, causing Lupo to look around, "What of Vector?"

Bertha shrugs, "She says he will come later to eat."

Lupo raises a slim eyebrow, "The point of this is to bound, since you all refuse to do it on your own, we'll force it when we eat, this bounding would include Vector."

Bertha shrugs again, "He says he doesn't want to show his face, even to us." Lupo lets her eye twitch but drops the subject.

Everyone begins to pile the food onto their plates, some even braving the snails, Spectre being one of the brave ones to try it. Lupo passes the wine around and starts up a conversation as best as a trained killer could.

"I hope you enjoy the food I would usually only cook for my kids but I suppose as your leader I need to take care of my team and make sure you are all well fed." Lupo takes a drink of wine.

Four Eyes takes a bite of the cooked chicken braised in wine and nods, "It's really delicious, Lupo, it has a strong kick to it but its sweet." Four Eyes takes another bite.

Beltway pokes at a snail before flicking it around on his plate with his fork, "Its …interesting, that's for sure." Beltway digs his fork in and attempts to dig the snail out of the shell and pops it out, causing it to fly up and land on his plate with a squishing noise, causing Beltway to turn his head a bit in disgust. Beltway watches with even more disgust as the Russian eats the escargot like its nothing.

Beltway clears his throat and pushes the snails away to the far end of his plate and takes in a few good pieces of chicken, "So, what is the most traumatizing thing that has happened to you?" Beltway just asks out of the blue.

Lupo clears her throat, "What kind of question is that?"

Beltway shrugs with a mouth full of chicken, swallowing before answering, "If we have to work together, might as well learn the deep parts of ya stories."

Lupo seems to think about this for a moment before answering, "I killed my husband with my bare hands after he beat one of my children."

Beltway stops half way through his chewing, seeming to consider before swallowing, a mental note stapled to his brain about not pissing the wolf mother off. Lupo looks up at Four Eyes who seems to consider the question.

Four Eyes answers slowly, "I would say when my rare viral samples were ruined, I had spent months cultivating them and caring for them, then they were all lost." The rest of the team look at each other before Beltway shakes his head.

The demolition expert sighs, "My incident was when I blew off my own leg, took awhile to get used to but it goes to prove toys can hurt ya."

Lupo snorts, "If you call frag grenades toys."

Beltway shrugs, "I love to blow things up and I enjoy the fact Umbrella lets me blow up questionable things, unlike the Army, but point aside, I had an 'accident' with a grenade, blew off my leg." Beltway looks at Spectre, "What about you?"

The Russian pushes his plate away, empty from the small amount of food he had on it, used to eating small rations, "I do not…like…to talk about ...it."

Four Eyes tilts her head a bit, "We told ours, come on, and how bad can it be?"

Lupo frowns at the younger woman "Don't be pushy; if he doesn't want to share don't push it."

Four Eyes' frowns but continues to eat as Spectre leans back and seems to think about the question, wondering how much to tell his new team mates but decides the truth would be a bit…much, but decides it would perhaps be best.

Spectre clears his throat and leans back on the chair, talking in his normal, slow, deep voice as he tries to correctly translate what he's trying to say into English, "Soviet winters…are hard…something most in America cannot imagine. There is little…too no food...and it's so…hard to keep alive." Spectre stops and seems to think over his next words carefully, "I have…had to resort to…eating someone else to …keep alive." Beltway spits out the wine he had been drinking, hitting Four Eyes who jumps back to wipe the wine off his face.

Beltway coughs a bit, "Man…that is fucked up."

Bertha sits quietly to herself before talking, her plate having had been emptied some time ago, "Is it really so horrible to survive? If you have a source of food, dead or alive, would you not eat it before allowing yourself to starve to death?"

Lupo nods slowly as Beltway coughs, "I would rather starve then eat the flesh of another person."

Spectre shrugs and gets up, heading back up to his room quietly, Bertha watching him walks out of the room. Lupo sighs and leans back, "We have quite a family going on in here."

Beltway winces a bit, "Do you think he really did it, ate someone?"

Lupo shrugs, "It doesn't matter, he won't eat us so I could care less."

Bertha shrugs, "It could very well be true. Nothing out there is as cruel as the Russian Winter, it's protected Russia from invasion but kills with no discrimination, it would not be hard to believe someone would kill and eat another person to survive."

As the other members of Wolf Pack continue their discussion, Spectre makes his way back into his room and the first thing he notices is a good sized bottle of vodka on his night stand, sitting on top of his book. The Russian walks over and picks up the bottle and tugs on a small tag around the neck which reads, _'thought you might be wanting this – Bertha'_. Spectre smiles and pulls the cap off and takes a swig, enjoying the taste and burn before putting the bottle back down on the table and undressing down to his black boxers. The Russian gets into the bed and lays down, getting comfortable for the night before dozing off into a light sleep.


End file.
